The Key

                                                             

 Sacha Guitry.

Osbert sighed and rubbed at his eyes, wishing that he could go to his bed. ‘I’m getting too old for this,’ he muttered.

At fifty seven, in an age when the average span was forty five, he was old, though since life within a monastery was easier than out, there were other monks older than he.

He had been a landowner until he had lost his family to a Danish raid and vowed to take his revenge. In the army of Aella the pretender he fought in the battle meant to bring Eoferwic* back into Saxon hands and was one of the few that survived when the Danes attacked from behind. He fled to Mercia and the army of Burgred and spent two years defending the western border against the tribes of the Welsh. But the Danes having consolidated their hold on Norohymbralond* were coming, sailing up the Trente in a fleet of dragon headed ships. Already they had destroyed the town of Gegesburh* and occupied Snotengaham* and Osbert was sent with the army of King Burgred and King Ethelred of Wessex to surround the town.

But instead of fighting they signed a treaty of peace with the Danes, so he moved on to East Anglia and volunteered to fight in the shield wall, for King Edmund. And was there when the shield wall broke and Edmund fled south. There was only one kingdom free of the Danes and Oswald went west into Wessex, to join the last Saxon Army, and instead found God.

At the age of fifty two he became a monk and for the first time in life found peace in his sparse surroundings. Since he could read and write, he was made assistant to Elfric who dealt with visitors from other parts of the Christian world. The common language was Latin, but some spoke it so badly that there was a need to converse in other tongues and to Osbert’s surprise; he found that he had a gift for the language of others.

After five years of peace, the Danes were back, ensconced in Wareham and Osbert had new role to play, this time for Alfred the new king of Wessex.

His task was to decipher every scrap of parchment that arrived on his desk and there were many. Not that the Danes were great ones for writing, but they used merchants as spies or to carry messages, and the merchants loved to write those messages down. Most of what passed over his desk was mundane and of little import, but a spy had been caught carrying a message from the Danish king Guthrum in Wareham to Ubbe, who’s army waited God knows where. The spy admitted as much under torture, but died prematurely without revealing Ubbe’s whereabouts, or the content of the message.

Now Oswald’s job was to find the key to a message written in “Futhark” the runic alphabet. But the Church detested the alphabet with its connections to the old gods, and the priests destroyed any examples they found. Leaving him with an almost impossible task, and the fate of the kingdom could well depend on the outcome.

‘Guard,’ he shouted.

The guard ducked his head as he entered the door, ‘Can I help, father?’

‘Find Ealdorman Edgar, bring him here, and tell him to bring his stones.’

‘His stones, father?’ queried the guard, feigning innocence.

‘You know which stones, just tell him to bring them,’ he said in dismissal.

A few of the soldiers especially the older ones gave allegiance to the church but followed the old ways in secret, he should know, he had been one of them once.

‘You wanted me? Father,’ said the Ealderman when he arrived.

‘No, Edgar, I want you and your stones.’

‘Stones? Father.’

‘Edgar, I’ve been up all night and I haven’t the patience for this, throw the stones on the table.’

Edgar reluctantly took the rune stones from his pouch and threw them on the table.

Osbert laid the message next to the stones. ‘Don’t look so worried man, just tell me what it say’s.’

Edgar studied the message and shook his head. ‘It makes no sense.’

‘How so?’

‘The runes can be used in words, this one is TH, this One R and so on, or they have meanings that tell the future. But reading them either way makes no sense.’

Osbert picked up a scrap of parchment, wrote down the runes and had Edgar tell him the letters, which he wrote beneath.

Edgar would have read message in Saxon, so Osbert tried Danish, then Latin and a few other languages as well, ‘There must be something else, tell me more of the runes.’

‘When the stones are cast one could appear as merkstave and have a dark meaning or others might simply land upside down and be in reverse.’

Osbert grabbed up the message, smiled and dashed from the room.

‘Where are you going, father?’ the Ealderman called to his retreating back.

*(Northumberland)

*(Gainsborough)

Website Builder